


Too Cold to Cry

by FuntasticFrost



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: 3 Sentence Fiction, 30 Day Whump Prompt Challenge, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Hurt/Comfort, Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood) Whump, Jack Needs a Hug, Jack-Centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pitch Black (Guardians of Childhood) Being an Asshole, Sick Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuntasticFrost/pseuds/FuntasticFrost
Summary: Jack is fairly certain the universe is out to get him.





	1. Crying

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my own Whump-Prompt Challenge, found here:
> 
>   
>  <https://funtasticfrost.tumblr.com/post/174281702285/30-day-whump-prompt-challenge>   
> 

Hugging his knees to his chest, Jack grits his teeth and shakes, his chest heaving with strain as he sobs. Gasping, he whines quietly, tracks of tears freezing to his flushed cheeks as he tries to stop crying, his sore eyes squeezed shut. Trembling, he wipes his nose on his deerskin pants, hating himself for falling apart like the pathetic mess he is.


	2. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: disordered eating behavior

His knees wobble as he crosses the hardwood floor, leaning against the ornate table for support, his temple throbbing faintly. North waves a cookie under his nose, but Jack just smiles and shakes his head.

“I’m not hungry,” he insists, even though his insides are hollow, empty like he deserves. 


	3. Nightmare

Jack yells loud enough to wake himself, a choked cry echoing through the clearing as he jolts upright, heart hammering painfully in his chest. His blue eyes are blown wide, darting in every direction as he clutches his staff, his sister’s haunting screams ringing in his ears.

“Just a dream,” he tries to reassure himself, but he can’t catch his breath with his heart lodged in his throat.


	4. Insomnia

“I’m not tired...” Jack insists with a yawn, swaying on coltish legs and rubbing his heavy eyes, blinking slowly. His vision blurs as he nearly falls over, but Bunny’s grip on his arm saves him from collapsing from exhaustion. Jack aches for a break, for _sleep_ , but he’s too afraid to close his eyes, too terrified of what waits for him in the dark.


	5. Fainting

The battle is over, and everyone is celebrating, laughing and shouting and hugging each other—everything is too  _ loud _ and  _ bright, _ and Jack’s head aches from getting hit too hard.

He watches Sandy float toward him, a warm smile on his round face, as black spots dance across his blurry vision. Jack’s knees buckle, and his eyes roll into the back of his head as he collapses, falling unconscious.


	6. Panicking

Jack bloodies his knuckles by punching the concave walls of the hourglass, but he can’t escape the torrents of black earth raining from above, slowly but surely burying him alive.

“Let me out!” he screams, throat raw from hyperventilating, but Pitch just laughs. Jack realizes he’s going to die here, alone with only a cheshire cat grin to keep him company, when sand nearly fills the hourglass, rising past his nose, and he can’t move, can’t scream, can’t _breathe._


	7. Fever

“Oh my, you’re burning up!” Tooth exclaims, pressing her smooth palm against his sweaty forehead, and he moans at the cool touch. Trembling and achy, Jack cracks open his leaden eyes, his temple throbbing at the bright light, and offers her a wobbly smile.

“M’fine,” he reassures, his voice scratchy on account of his dry throat, “I’m not sick.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... sure you're not, buddy.


	8. Delirious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a a continuation of the previous drabble. Jack's fever has reached a dangerously high temperature and is making him a little loopy.

“Where am I?” Jack slurs, his head lolling to the side as his gaze darts around the blurry room, his eyes narrowing in confusion as colors and shapes swirl around him in a hazy hurricane of sensation. A woman is hovering at his bedside—he reaches for her with a floppy hand, unsure if she’s a magical creature or his mother, and giggles, a dopey smile curling his lips. “Mom?”


	9. Choking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, and now the Pitch Black Being an Asshole tag comes into play.

“You’re significantly less insufferable when you’re not running your mouth,” Pitch comments offhandedly, the barest hint of a smile on his shadowed face, and Jack gnashes his teeth, clawing at the arm pinning him to the brick wall. Choked gasps spill from his lips as the iron grip around his throat tightens, lighting a fire in his lungs and bringing tears to his eyes. He feels like he’s drowning all over again as darkness encroaches on his vision, little panicked noises falling from his open mouth as he struggles to breathe.


	10. Manhandling

Jack has never been used as a human shield before, but there’s a first time for everything, and it's his own fault, really, because he shouldn’t have let Pitch catch him off guard in the first place. He tugs on the arm barred across his throat, wheezing, and watches with wide eyes as the Guardians skid to an abrupt halt, their weapons still raised.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Pitch reassures them, tightening his hold and effectively keeping Jack from squirming away, “You can have your little pet project back—after you surrender, of course.”


	11. Hair Pulling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood

Skeletal fingers grab a fistful of Jack’s hair and yank his head back, forcing him to look up into menacing golden eyes. He hisses in pain, gritting his teeth and glaring fiercely.

“Perhaps you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Pitch considers, pressing a sharp blade against the curve of his throat, and Jack winces, gasping as the knife draws blood and cold red droplets slide down his neck.


	12. Hypothermia

Jack’s tendency to be annoying gets him in all sorts of trouble—this time, he irritated a winter witch who, in retaliation, has turned him back into a human and abandoned him in Siberia to freeze to death. His teeth chatter as he trembles violently, curled up in a ball and lying in the snow, numb all over. Drowsily, he cracks open his frosted lashes, frowning at his fingers and toes blackened by frostbite.


	13. Overheated

Soaked in sweat, Jack dizzily stumbles away from the beach, having just barely fought off some quick-tempered summer spirits. He clutches his aching head and only manages a couple shaky steps before he collapses, hitting the ground with a thud. Groaning, Jack tries to stand back up, but he’s too weak, too melted and burned out, so he rolls over into the shade and hopes his friends will find him. 


	14. Poisoned

Jack’s first attendance at North’s annual New Year’s Eve party is ruined the moment he downs a flute of champagne. The poison— _someone poisoned his drink, holy shit_ —hits him almost immediately, and he drops his glass, staggering back a couple steps. The guests around him scowl in disgust as foam bubbles gathers at the corner of his mouth, and then they ignore him when he goes down, twitching and convulsing, like he's some sort of pesky killjoy.


	15. Stabbed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood

The scythe swings down before he can blink, stabbing him in the chest and pinning him to the asphalt. Jack tries to scream, but all that comes out is a garbled, wet sound—one of his lungs is run through, maybe even his heart, he can’t tell for sure—and Jack didn’t even think he _could_ die, but it happened to Sandy, and this sure looks like a mortal wound, with so much blood pouring out and all. He can hear Bunny cursing something fierce and Tooth’s fearsome battle cry, and he wants to help—he has to help—so he lifts one trembling hand to try to yank out the curved blade, but as soon as he jostles the spike, white-hot pain burns through him and knocks him out instantly.


	16. Shot

The arrow slices through the air, a black streak soaring across an even blacker sky, aimed perfectly at the back of North’s head—but Jack can fly as fast as the wind, and he does, without hesitation, cutting through the projectile’s path of travel before it can hit its mark. The arrow lodges itself in his back, splitting his ribs, and Jack crashes to the ground, choking on his own blood.

“I’m okay,” Jack says weakly, trying to reassure North, and he offers a feeble smile when his friend presses a shaky hand against the gushing wound, worry clouding his eyes.


End file.
